


How You Want to Be

by Daiako (Achrya)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (not really) - Freeform, Clubbing, Crossdressing, Dancing, M/M, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Sometimes Noctis and Prompto like to dress up as girls to go out without being recognized. It works shockingly well...until they spot Gladio and Ignis in the same club one night. The smart thing to do would be to sneak out and be grateful their friends hadn't spotted them but never let it be said Noctis was one to take safe option.





	How You Want to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaning out my Tumblr exclusive stuff and slapping it up here. 
> 
> In which Prompto and Noctis go out dressed as girls, run into Ignis and Gladio, and stuff. Happens. Noctis drifts between being self aware and immature. Ignis does un-Ignis like things in the pursuit of indulging his prince? Yeah, that’s totally what it is.

“This isn’t going to work.” Prompto muttered as he guided Noctis to tilt his head up. “It’s not going to work and we’re going to end up looking stupid. I’ll never be able to look Ignis and Gladio is the face again. I’m going to have to stop being your friend to hide my shame. I’m going to need to move out of the city to a small shack in some tiny nameless town where no one knows my name and-”

“Prompto.” Noctis grabbed his friend by the shoulders, partially to stop his ranting and partially to stop him from coming at him with the eyeliner pencil while his hands were shaking. “Breathe.”

Prompto made a face then sighed. “Yeah yeah. I’m just…this is a terrible idea. What are they even doing here? I mean Gladio, fine, he seems like he would like clubs but Ignis? Ignis goes out? To clubs? Looking like that?!”

Prompto’s voice went a bit shrill at the end but Noctis had to admit he had a point. They’d come out to this specific club not just because it had a mixed high school and college crowd and they’d heard it was pretty popular, but because it was practically on the other side of the city from the Citadel and Noct’s apartment. They had thought that meant they’d only have to worry about seeing some of the kids they went to school with at the absolute worst. That Ignis and Gladio might wander in less than an hour after they’d arrived had never even registered on Noctis’ potential terrible outcomes list.

Every now and then he remembered that Ignis and Gladio weren’t much older than him, were barely ‘adults’ themselves at 20 and 21 compared to his almost 18. That they might sometimes want to go and do things that other people their age did, like hanging out together or clubbing or dating or something like that. They didn’t talk to him about things like that, ever. They were friends, at least he thought they were, but it was sort of like being school friends? They talked about family and things at the citadel, about the other guards, about training, and upcoming political banquets and royal appearances, about what Noctis did with his time but almost never about what Gladio and Ignis did with theirs. He supposed he’d never really thought they did much outside of their jobs?

It was…an uncomfortable way to realize he was very very wrong about that. They were people with stuff going on and, also, they were kind of hot? Which he’d known, maybe. As in he’d had a crush on both back when he’d been like fifteen or sixteen and so a dumb kid, basically. It hadn’t been much with Gladio, just an acknowledgement that his future shield was built like a tank and that sometimes being slammed on the ground while sparring wasn’t all bad. It had come and gone quickly enough. But Ignis. That crush had been…more intense.

Full of blushing and awkward moments, of shying away from Ignis’ touch and attention, of starting fights just to get the other off his back and give him space. He’d been hoping space would get him over one day waking up to the fact that Ignis was smart and funny, in a dry and occasionally gently mocking kind of way, and that the skin around his eyes crinkled when he laughed. That Ignis’ hair took on bits of gold in the sun and so did his eyes. That maybe he’d be able to forget that Ignis was always there for him, had always been there, was a good person who cared about Noctis not just because he was the prince but because they’d been with each other for years.

He’d thought he’d gotten over it but then he’d been looking across a busy club to see Ignis not in his usual prim and proper clothing, button downs and waistcoats with slacks, but in jeans that could have been painted on, a dark button down light gray pinstripe shirt, two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and, fuck, when had Ignis gotten arms like that anyway? (A tiny voice whispered something about daggers and training but Noctis didn’t want to hear it. Ignis couldn’t be the person he was with the face he had AND have amazing arms and shoulders and a surprisingly broad chest that Noctis might have watched flexing under his shirt for a good twenty seconds before he’d snapped back to awareness! There were rules! Ignis was breaking the RULES!) His glasses were god only knew where and his hair was styled with the front pushed back and he’d been laughing when Noctis had seen him, mouth stretched into a smile and laughing so hard he’d been wiping tears from his eyes while Gladio nudged him.

Ignis did not laugh like that around Noctis. It had made his heart twinge at the same moment it made his dick…do…other things.

And then there was Gladio, out of his hoodies and training sweats and disobeying all kinds of rules of public decency with his shirt left unbuttoned to show off his bare chest, his new tattoo on display, and dark tight pants. His hair, which Noctis had literally been making fun of the day before because he was growing it out on top and it looked really awkward these days, was pulled back into a tail on top, the sides freshly shaved down, and there had been piercings Noctis didn’t know he had lining his ear.

The effect wasn’t the same as seeing Ignis but Noctis wasn’t *blind*.

Or, it seemed, as over those crushes as he’d thought.

He’d been too shocked and mortified to have any real thought beyond ‘escape!’ at first, had gone tearing for the clubs exit with Prompto at his heels, heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t get caught like this, in this place, and not by them of all potential people. He could already imagine them grabbing him up, lecturing him on being out so late, dressed like he was. Could picture them marching him to see his father, making him confess everything except all he’d be able to get out was a long confession about how Ignis needed to do up his shirt properly because Noctis wanted to lick his skin there.

Which was new. He’d never wanted to lick Ignis before. Cuddle with him on the couch like he did with Prompto sometimes (but not really like he did with Prompto), nap with him, hold his hand and kiss him, yes. All of that. Lick him though? No, no that was new.

But then they’d be bursting out of the door, near colliding with someone and hitting the ground when someone had caught him around the waist to steady him. A man, a bit older than he was maybe, with bright brown eyes and a ready smile.

“Hey honey, why is a pretty thing like you running like that? Can’t be much fun in there if all the pretty girls are leaving.”

And that was when it hit Noctis. He and Prompto were here as girls, like they’d been to different clubs and arcades and other places. They seemed to be convincing, or at least, people treated them like they were. And Noctis supposed when he looked in the mirror, after Prompto had put to use all those hours watching MoogTube for makeup and hair tips, that he could see it. A face softened by makeup and hair style, eyes made to look wider and softer, lips made full and plush, clothing and shoes that created curves Noctis didn’t actually have…yeah he could see it.

And if he could see it maybe Ignis and Gladio would too.

Which is what lead them to being across the street inside the bathroom of a 24-7 diner while Prompto touched up his makeup.

“This will be fine. We’ll just. Talk to them like we talk to other people.”

Prompto shook his head. “People we don’t know, Noct. It’s totally different. What if they know! They’re going to know.”

“No they won’t.” Noctis said, tone firm. “And…if they do so what?” He would die of humiliation. “We’ll just laugh it off like it was a joke, all solved. No big deal.”

“Yes big deal.” Prompto’s mouth, painted a dark plum that bordered on black, turned down at the corners. “What if they tell your dad? What if you can’t come out anymore? What if we…we have to stop doing this?”

Noctis frowned too; his friend’s cheeks were pink not from his makeup but because he was upset and his voice cracked as he spoke. Right. Right. Prompto got something different out of this than Noctis did. Noct liked being able to go places and have fun and meet people (and occasionally make out with people) without worrying about his picture ending up on the front page of a tabloid. Prompto however became…a different person almost.

No, that wasn’t right. Still Prompto but the Prompto only Noctis ever got to see. Smart and quick, confident in himself and what he was doing, not afraid of being rejected or talked down to or told to get lost. He put on that brunette wig and his old glasses and became a person who started conversations and danced with people in clubs and cracked jokes at something other than his own expense.

Even now he wasn’t as worried as he could be, peering down at Noctis and carefully swiping eyeshadow out of the corner of his eye. The clothes and hair, the makeup, it was like armor for him. Really pretty armor, in the form of a black cardigan over a loose fitting long sleeved black and white striped top that stopped just above his belly button, allowing a finger width or two of space before the thick black waistband of his skirt started. The skirt itself was a deep red, long enough to hit him at mid-calf, showing off shapely bare legs and the black ankle boots Prompto had recently declared the best thing he’d ever spent money on. The brown hair of his wig was tousled and curled the barest amount at the bottom then drawn up into a seemingly haphazard messy ponytail and his dark makeup, near black lips and smokey gray above his eyes, contrasted with his pale skin.  

Noctis hadn’t really gotten ‘Prompto’s look’ at first, sure that all the long flared skirts and longer sleeved tops would be kind of nerdy, especially with the glasses, but on Prompto it wasn’t. On Prompto it was an odd sort of cute and commanding, drew the attention of others and, most importantly, it made his friend feel good.

Occasionally Noctis became aware that he had selfish tendencies, that he sort of expected people to just do things (Ignis could, no doubt, write a book about that) and sometimes he was like that with Prompto as well.

He reached out and grabbed Prompto’s hand, squeezing. “That won’t happen. If they tell my dad then they tell him. Nothing changes, I’m not doing anything wrong and no one’s known it was me before so there’s no reason for anyone to get upset about it. …And they won’t know it’s us. You’ll see.”

Prompto sighed then held up the tube of soft pink gloss Noctis was wearing. “Whatever. Ignis is going to know it’s you. He knows you better than you know you.”

Noctis’ frown deepened for a moment but a tap to his lips had him forcing himself into a neutral expression. He waited until Prompto was done, the slightly sticky stuff making his lips look full and shiny, before speaking again.

“I’m not sure we really know each other that well.” Prompto’s eyebrow went up. “I’m just…I’ve never seen him like that. …anyway, you’d think you’d be jumping at a chance to talk to Gladio. I thought you were going to pass out when you saw him.”

The ‘talk to Gladio without stumbling over your words and blushing’ didn’t, Noctis figured, need to be said.

“…shut up.” Prompto mumbled, cheeks burning brighter. “Did I mention that this is a bad idea?”

“Yes.”

“As long as you know.”

—

The club was much busier than when they’d left, people filling the upper floor, where the entrance, bar, most of the seating, and smaller dance floor were, as well as the bottom floor that was mostly dance floor and a small stage with a secondary bar. The crowd was loud and the music was louder, so loud Noctis could hear it in his teeth. It was hot in comparison to the cool spring air outside, the crush of bodies and their body heat making the air damp and heavy.

Noctis took a hold of Prompto’s hand to keep him close and started pushing through the crowd, eyes scanning for his retainers. They hadn’t been gone all that long so he didn’t think they’d left already or, at least, he hoped they hadn’t.

But maybe that would be better. He was suddenly less sure about what he was doing, more nervous and aware that yes, this was probably a little stupid. The idea was simple enough: find Ignis and Gladio, talk to them for a while, see if their disguises were good enough that they didn’t realize who they really were. All the better if they could get the older men to, maybe, flirt a little. Just for fun, just to see if they could, and they they’d back off and compare results.

Unless they got caught. Then Noctis was prepared to state their case for why this should be kept a secret and forgotten about and, if need be, resort to bribery.

What kind of bribery he wasn’t sure but he’d work it out.

It was Prompto who spotted them, pulling on his hand then pointing towards the bar. They were sitting there, nursing drinks and talking to each other, Gladio gesturing about something while Ignis shook his head. Noct’s heart was beating hard in his chest, a mixture of fear and anticipation, and Prompto’s hand was sweaty in his hand. If they were going to turn and leave this was the time to do it.

Instead he stood up straighter, squared his shoulders, and pushed forward through the crowd to where a seat was, conveniently, open next to Ignis. He pulled Prompto ahead of him then nudged him towards the seat; Prompto shot him a look then slipped up into the high backed stool, crossing his legs at the ankle, and leaned forward to flag down the woman behind the counter. Noctis slipped into the gap between Prompto’s chair and Ignis’ to lean against the counter. He brushed against Ignis’ legs, felt the older man start in surprise, and turned towards him slightly, apology on his lips.

And then dying on his tongue under Ignis’ bright green eyes.

He suddenly had absolutely no idea what to say.

Noctis had, admittedly, never approached anyone before. He’d never had to, which was not something he had ever considered a matter of pride or a good thing. As the prince people flocked to him because of his title and status with little care to what kind of person he actually was and he’d always found that annoying. And yet when they approached him when he was dressed like this, because they thought he was attractive, he found he didn’t mind nearly as much. At least that was something about him and effort he’d put forth, even if it was superficial.

Tonight he was wearing a black dress, hitting at about mid-thigh. The bottom was basic, fitted to his body, but the top was triangle in shape in the front and tied around his neck. There were thick bands of fabric that went under his arms, leading to a large bow in the back; the sides below the strap and his back below the bow were open. He was carrying a pale pink cropped leather jacket, wearing thick leggings with pale pink skulls printed on them, and scuffed up black boots that Prompto called ‘disappointing’ every time they came out of the closet.

Sadly they couldn’t all master walking in heels in under a month. Or at all.

He looked nice enough, though not in the same way Prompto did. Not as charming or sweet, not nearly as pretty even when his makeup was lighter and softer, pink on his lips, brushed over his cheeks, silver lining his eyes, and a touch of shimmery peach above them. He’d brushed out his hair, let it fall in layered waves that curved in around his face and fell into his eyes. He was something but he lacked the proper word for it (not sweet or pretty, in his opinion, nor handsome) but knew it was something people (men and women, though perhaps his preference leaned towards older men) seemed to like. He was usually confident like this.

He felt small and young and very stupid with Ignis looking down at him; he couldn’t remember what had made him think he could pull this off. Ignis knew everything, had always known everything about him even though Noctis apparently didn’t know much in return.

“You came back!” A cheerful voice shouted a moment before a body was wedging itself between him and Ignis’ chair. Noctis stepped back into Prompto, who put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, startled for a moment and then relaxing. It was the man from before, who’d kept him from falling outside of the club. “Decided this place was fun after all?”

Noctis blinked at him then looked over his shoulder quickly, catching a spark of annoyance on Ignis’ face. Then Gladio was there, leaning close to Ignis and tapping the advisor to draw his attention back to him, and away from Noctis, for the moment. Noct almost sighed in relief then made himself smile.

“Something like that.”

“Not sold yet?” The man smiled toothily as his eyes roamed over Noctis. “How about a dance then? Maybe I can convince you to stay.”

Noctis glanced back at Prompto who, now with a bottle of soda in one hand, waved dismissively. Okay then. Prince Noctis wasn’t a dancer, preferring to hide at balls and social functions, but this Noctis didn’t mind. He gave the man another once over: older, as marked by not having a ‘under twenty’ wristband on and in the air about him, stubble over his square jaw, close cropped blond hair.

Not bad to look at.

“Okay.” A hand was offered to him and he took it, allowing himself to be pulled not towards the small dance floor but the stairs leading down to the second floor.

This was good. He’d dance, maybe get a drink out of this guy, and reapproach the Ignis and Gladio thing when he was less likely to vomit on his shoes from pure nervousness.

The music was louder downstairs, something vaguely familiar and pop-y mixed with something hard and pulsing, shaking the floor, and the air even hotter. He felt sweat prickling the back of his neck and forehead before they were even fully on the dance floor and, when his companion pulled him in closer, the heat went up another notch. He wasn’t a big guy, not much taller than Noctis was, but he was very solid and warm.

Noctis liked that in a dance partner.

It’s not so much dancing at first as swaying together, feeling things out, and then the song faded and the DJ shouted over it, before it picked up even louder and everyone was cheering. It was infectious in a way nothing else ever is. Noctis hated crowds, hated noise, hated being hemmed in by bodies but when he was like this and music was going it’s easy to cheer with everyone else, to give in to the pulse he could feel under his feet and the excitement permeating the air.

They didn't get as close as the man wants, not really, and Noctis didn’t let him get as handsy as he wanted. Fingers touched the hem of his dress, touched his leg through his leggings, then tried to push up under the dress to palm his ass but he sidestepped out of range, laughing. He turned and bounced alone, but not really alone as a petite girl found her way in front of him, settled back against him and ground her ass against his thigh (thankfully. There was a chance for awkwardness if she’d gone for for more intimate contact) a moment before the man came back. He tried to pull Noctis back against him and he almost went with it, nearly let them nearly touch as he swayed with the girl. She tossed a cheeky smile over her shoulder and winked before turning to face him fully, long vibrant red braid swinging around with her. She didn’t touch him but she moved with him, was so close he could feel her body skimming his.

The man stayed close to his back, kept a hand on Noctis’ hip, but didn’t try to close the barely there gap between them. It was easy, with warm bodies at his front and back and all around him, to fall into things and let one song slide into another and another. The girl slipped away, found another taller girl to slide her body against, knees and thighs fitting together, and someone else filled the space, though not to dance with him so much as to be there.

“Hey, I’m gonna…!” Brown-eyes shouted against his ear, indicating to a girl who was shooting them sultry looks, and Noctis nodded. Brown-eyes flashed him a bright smile before moving away to join the woman and get swallowed up by the crowd.

Noctis stayed a little longer, just going with the never-ending sway in time with everyone else, before finally deciding he needed to get on with things. He felt good, some of the self-assurance he usually had firmly back into place. He was sweating hard, legs tingling and heart thudding in his chest, but he could feel the smile on his lips as he slipped off of the dance floor. It stayed until he was back up the stairs, weaving around people heading down and lingering at the top landing, and at the bar.

Prompto was gone (along with Noct’s jacket) but Ignis was still there, sipping something out of a glass bottle. Noctis frowned, started to turn away, but Ignis’ gaze slid over to him. He motioned Noctis closer and, perhaps on reflex, Noctis did just that. He didn’t even realize he’d done it until he was standing next to Ignis and the older man was abandoning his stool and waving at Noctis to take the seat. All the other stools were taken, crowded around.

Noctis looked at the stool but didn’t sit, swallowing nervously. Instead of calming now that he was no longer dancing his heart started beating faster. “Thanks but I should-”

“Your friend, by the way, is over there.” Ignis pointed towards the seating area, all dark high backed booths that were impossible to see into from where they were. Normally Prompto would never go somewhere with someone he’d just met, let alone without telling Noctis he was going, and normally Noctis would be panicking. But it was Gladio and if they couldn’t trust Gladio who could they trust?“She seemed to catch my friend’s eye.”

Noctis bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to read Ignis’ expression. He’d called Prompto ‘she’ without any hint that of a twitch or hesitation and he didn’t look disapproving or like he was about to start lecturing. His face was relaxed, open, a little bit amused as he took a long drink from his bottle. And maybe he was checking Noctis out, curious eyes darting down and back up to focus on his face again.

If Noctis hadn’t already been warm and, no doubt, flushed he knew he would have been blushing. “Ah. Okay. I should go see-”

“I think,” Ignis said, smiling disarmingly. “It’s my job to buy Gladio time to talk your friend up.”

Noctis snorted in spite of himself. “You’re the wingman.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully before nodding. “I believe so, yes. Believe it or not the reverse was the original goal.”

That made Noctis pause, surprise making his eyes widen. The reverse? Ignis and Gladio had come out for Ignis to find a girl to ‘talk up’? Ignis? His Ignis? (Well, not *his* Ignis but the sentiment held.) He couldn’t picture it at all; Ignis was all books and schedules and…and tarts! He hadn’t even been able to tell when Noctis had been knee deep in a big stupid crush two years ago but now he was out having Gladio wingman for him?

Noctis felt a headache coming on.

“Not my idea, of course.” Ignis added, lips quirking up like he fighting back laughter. “Gladio, my friend, thinks I could do with a little unwinding.” That was something Noctis could easily believe. “Your friend has done me quite the favor. Now, if I may, how can I keep you here with me as a proper wingman would? I'm afraid I'm out of practice.”

Noctis considered that for a moment. This was going better than he’d really been willing to let himself believe; he and Ignis were talking, Ignis hadn’t called him out yet, and Ignis wanted to keep talking. That was…that was good.

But maybe he was just letting giving Noctis enough rope to hang himself. Letting him get good and comfortable before telling him he’d known all along. What he needed, Noctis decided, was for Ignis to do something he’d never do with the Crown Prince.

“Buy me a drink.”

A single eyebrow lifted. “A drink?”

“Yeah, a drink. Whatever you’re having is fine.”

“Are you old enough to drink?” Both of their gazes fell to the neon orange band around Noct’s left wrist and the starburst stamp on the back of his hand, the marks that he was underage. He old enough to be in the club, which allowed 17 and up inside until midnight on the weekends, but not to drink. The student ID he was borrowing was for a girl in his year, dark haired and blue eyed like he was, but nowhere near old enough to let him drink.

He and Prompto needed older friends.

“Yes.” Noctis didn’t make any move to hide his wrist, couldn’t have even if he wanted to. Ignis stared at him placidly then held up his hand to motion the bartender closer. “Wait, seriously?”

“I’m a very good wingman.”

Noctis said nothing more, watching in faint surprise as Ignis ordered another beer and, once the bartender had gone to tend to others, held the older one out to him. He took it, fingers curling around the sweating glass, feeling a touch light headed. He didn’t even think to protest as he was taken away from the bar towards a corner, away from where he could be seen drinking with his tell-tale wristband to give him away.

Ignis had just given him a drink.

Him. Underage prince. A drink that wasn’t just a sip of champagne on New Year’s Eve, immediately plucked out his hand once the celebration was over.

This was not his Ignis and he was now certain the older man didn’t know who he was. Which was good. Experiment a success.

…so now what?

Noctis leaned against the cool stone of the wall and took a drink from his half emptied bottle, very aware of Ignis’ eyes on him. The beer wasn’t as sour as he’d had before, went done easier, and he was able to keep from doing anything embarrassing like grimacing or gagging. He looked out over the club, occasionally sneaking glances at Ignis, and scarcely realized he’d emptied his drink until he was swallowing the last bitter dredges down.

When he chanced another look up he found Ignis was looking at him with thinly veiled interest. He felt his face go warm again, looked away quickly while cursing his stupid fucking crush. And reminded himself that Ignis wasn’t looking at *him* he was looking at…the other him. The not real him.

Something like that.

“I can take that.” Ignis offered; he didn’t wait for a response before reaching and gently taking the bottle from his hand. Their fingers brushed and the touch lingered longer than it needed to, the warmth from Ignis seeping into fingers chilled by the beer bottle. “Will it take another to keep you here?”

“Ah. No.” Noctis looked down at the toes of his boots, scuffed and dull; Ignis seemed to pause and then he was walking away to take the empty bottles back to the bar.

Noctis watched him go, nibbling his lower lip and tasting sugar sweet strawberry. What did Ignis think of this him anyway? Was this what he liked, old boots and silly leggings and short dresses? He would have imagined something different if he’d ever thought about it, something…classier. Older, more put together, gowns or tailored dresses and suits, heels that were somehow sexy and sensible, styled hair. Someone who read books in other languages over wine and watched arthouse films with subtitles or something like that. But apparently not.

Unless he was really just being nice to keep him busy on Gladio’s behalf.

Why did that thought bother him so much? And it did, a lot.

“Dance with me?” The words were out of Noct’s mouth before Ignis had even fully settled into place next to him. The older man went still, brows knitting together and, yeah, that look of confusion was beyond fair. But it was out there now and…

It was just part of the experiment, really. Right? Yeah. He’d fooled Ignis so far but could he fool him up close and personal?

“If you’d like.” Ignis said, offering him a hand.

Well. Shit.

They stayed up on the top floor, found a spot on the floor. Ignis tugged him close, as the brown-eyed man had, before dropping his hand but this time Noctis didn’t try to keep away. They moved together for a few minutes, touching but not really touching and it was…

Noctis knew he wouldn’t get a chance like this again. Not with Ignis so close that he could smell him, sweat and spice and a touch of beer, could feel how warm he was, and was looking at sweat slowly sliding over his skin and down under his shirt.

The urge to lick Ignis came back. Noctis turned around, hoping that not actually looking at Ignis would take care of it because licking his future advisor was just not an option. Ignis’ chest brushed his back, there but not really *there*. Noctis wanted him to be, was considering pushing back against him, when the hand at his hip squeezed and then pulled him back firmly. Ignis kept him in place and guided him to move against his body.

It reminded him vaguely of sparing with Ignis, the length of his body pressed against Noctis, leading him through the moves, but completely different. This wasn’t picking up on Ignis’ fighting style and trying to keep from being pinned, it was their bodies rolling together, the pressure of fingers curling over his hip, a nose nuzzling behind his ear.

Noctis couldn’t begin to process it, beyond being glad for the constriction of leggings keeping parts of him from popping up, mind reeling and then giving up as warm breath brushed the back of his neck.

This was trouble. All kinds of trouble.

Which didn’t stop him from reaching back to cup the back of Ignis’ neck and then rolling his body back, pressing against his crotch further, harder, and moving against him. Ignis let out a surprised noise against his skin and yes, this was officially a terrible idea but Noctis smiled anyway. Ignis other hand slid back to grasp his other hip and Noctis went with it, gave in to having himself moved. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rest against Ignis’ shoulder, humming softly.

One song slipped into another, slower paced to go with lights turning lower, and the energy in the room shifted, became slow and sensual. Their hips rocked together and it wasn’t so much a dance as a slow grinding against each other. Warmth was building low in Noct’s belly, spreading through him. His mouth and throat were dry again and he was sweating, dress sticking to his skin, and the music had gone softer so the DJ could talk over it, but he didn’t care to listen. Just wanted to-

“Hey! N—ahh.” Prompto’s voice made him crack open an eye. He chased the sound with his eyes, not moving away from Ignis, to the edge of the dance floor where Prompto was standing, looking like he was about to explode. Gladio was behind him, looking very smug. Ignis sighed and squeezed his hips again.

“It seems you’re wanted.” Noctis huffed out an unhappy breath, trying to signal with his eyes that he didn’t want to be bothered. Prompto flailed in their direction; Noctis felt a smile blooming against his skin. “Perhaps you should see what she wants.”

“Yeah.” Noctis muttered, reluctantly unplastering himself from Ignis’ body. He was going to kill Prompto. “Right. Shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Ignis was slow to let him go and when Noctis looked back at him he was smiling. He ducked his head, hair falling over his face. It was like being 15 and going through the ‘oh shit, he’s hot’ realization all over again.

“I’m Ignis. I don’t believe I introduced myself.” Ignis said as he put a hand against the small of his back and began to guide him towards Prompto. There was an upturn to his voice, an unspoken question that took Noctis entirely too long to get.

Right. Ignis wanted him to introduce himself.  

To…oh, fuck, he wanted a name. He couldn’t use Noctis; as many of them as there were out there (and there were tons, male and female, all about his age, and it was creepy) that was just tempting fate too much. He needed something else, something far far from anything Ignis would guess, something covert. Noctis could do covert.

“Freya.”

If the Astrals had struck him down in that moment it would not have been fast enough. _Freya?_ What was wrong with him? Why was he this person?

“Freya.” Ignis repeated. “It’s nice to met you.”

—

It turned out to nearly midnight, which meant all the under 20 club patrons needed to go. Ignis and Gladio saw their companions into a taxi, amidst insistence that they could take the train. Once the car pulled away they exchanged looks and, in silent agreement, headed for the garage they had parked in.

“So. Looked like you and the Princess were having fun.” Ignis graced him with a flat look that spoke volumes. Gladio laughed, shoving the other man lightly. “Uh huh. Did you get any idea what that was all about?”

“No. I didn’t ask.” Ignis’ shoulders lifted into a half shrug. “I didn’t see any reason to not let Noctis have his fun.”

“While you humped him. After glaring holes into that other guy he was dancing with.”

“I will leave you here to find your own way home if you insist on saying such senseless things.”

“I got Prompto’s email.” Gladio continued, secure in the knowledge that Ignis would never attempt to drive after having a few beers. “Or. Petra’s email?”

“Petra?”

“ _Freya_.”

Ignis paused, eyes cutting to the side. Yes, that was a rather terrible alias wasn't it? “I see your point.”

“You’re not going to say anything to him?”

“No.”

“Mmm.”

"It doesn't seem to be hurting anything."

"Ah."

"And it is hardly my business." 

"Sure." If looks could have killed Gladio would have dropped dead on the spot. Sadly they couldn't so he just quirked an eyebrow in response to Ignis' glare.

Ignis pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I will leave it up to him to come clean if he feels like he needs to.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to talk about how he goes out in dresses and rubbed up on your junk? Sounds like a fun talk.”

“Gladio-”

“I know if I was him I’d be looking forward to it.” Gladio nodded solemnly. “That’s completely reasonable.”

Ignis glared at him harder. Then, rolling his eyes, snorted. “It hardly matters one way or another. We will keep an eye on Noctis and avoid this sort of encounter happening again.”

“I think I’m going to ask Prompto out.”

Ignis stumbled over his own feet. 


End file.
